thumbnail image
broken image
broken image
broken image

 

  • Projects
  • About
  • Contact
  • …  
    • Projects
    • About
    • Contact
broken image
broken image
broken image

 

  • Projects
  • About
  • Contact
  • …  
    • Projects
    • About
    • Contact
broken image
  • broken image

     

    Memento

    At the end of my garden is an old barn where I have been hoarding “stuff” since my mother’s death in 2005. As I stared working on this project, I realised that really the objects in my barn represented my grief. My mother’s old lamp shade, her dinner plate, the lid to one of her saucepans. These items were part of a vivid memory of the two of us eating roast chicken on a Sunday.
     

    Many of these things are covered with years of dust and cobwebs yet in some way I believed that my mother lived on in these everyday objects and the barn had become a tomb I had created to hide away from loneliness and heart break.
     

    As I worked, I realised that these objects were meaningless. They were just things bought from shops. In our society where consumerism is almost our new religion, I had mistakenly attached emotions to objects with no value. My mother was not inside the dark barn, she was not the genie in the lamp. In fact, she was outside in the living landscapes of beautiful Suffolk.

  • broken image
    broken image
    broken image
    broken image
    broken image
    broken image
    broken image
    broken image
    broken image
    broken image
    broken image
    broken image
  • broken image

elizastephens@aol.com

    Cookie Use
    We use cookies to ensure a smooth browsing experience. By continuing we assume you accept the use of cookies.
    Learn More